Ending One-shots
by rokhana
Summary: Little things about the various endings; some of them go into character a little bit, and others are basically just me writing down the ending because I couldn't think of a way to expand on it. There are even a couple that aren't based on actual endings; I wrote those just because. Also I don't think it'll ever really be complete b/c I'll probably just keep thinking of more things.
1. Forgotten Portrait - Garry

"Ugh… I hit my head…" Garry sat up groggily. He looked up to find Ib in front of him. "Ib… Are you okay?" She nodded, and he heaved a sigh of relief. "Ah! That's good. At any rate…" He looked around. "This place is full of scribbles… Is this the toy box? We fell in from the upper floor…" His expression darkened. "After she pushed us… Well, let's look for the key and get out!" He looked back at Ib, who looked white as a sheet. "You look kind of pale. Are you really okay?"

"I can't find my rose…" Garry's eyes widened, and he started glancing around, trying to spot it.

"What?! That's not good at all! You had it before, so it must be in the toy box somewhere! Let's find it!" He really was worried about her. He had come this far with Ib and had actually grown quite fond of the nine-year-old. As they were walking around looking for her rose, he felt something under his foot. He bent down and picked it up. It was the pink key. At least it was something, but it wasn't her rose.

"Ohhhh, what's this? A present for me?" His head whipped around to the familiar voice. Mary. She was speaking to a blue doll that was handing her something. When he realized what it was, it sent a chill down his spine. It was Ib's rose. "Yaaay, it's so preeetty! Can I have it? Oh, thank you!"

"That… it can't be…" He ran towards her, Ib trailing behind him. "Mary!" She looked up.

"Oh, Ib and Garry! Did you find what you were looking for?" Neither answered. " But anyway, lookit! I just got this! Pretty, isn't it!" Garry swallowed nervously.

"Mary… That… That rose…" Mary looked at it, then her eyes widened.

"Ohhh, you mean this is Ib's? I thought I'd seen it before!"

"Mary, please… Give that back to Ib." Mary looked disappointed.

"Huh?… I wonder…" She turned to Ib. "Ib… You want this back?" Ib nodded, her eyes wide. She was so pale she might have been mistaken for a ghost. Mary smiled. Garry swallowed. He didn't like the look on her face. "Well… Hmmm… Wanna trade Garry's rose?" Garry's heartbeat shot through the roof, and butterflies quickly found a way to his stomach. Ib stood still. "Garry's rose is blue, right? I like red and all, but I like blue even mooore!" Mary gestured to the doll next to her. "See? This doll's blue! Isn't she cute? And I know Ib likes to pet cute things!" Garry felt a drop of sweat roll down the side of his face. "…So? Wanna trade?" If he didn't trade, he would be handing Ib's life over to Mary. And yet, if he gave her his rose, he knew she would destroy it. She absolutely hated him, that much was obvious to anyone. And he knew this was exactly what she wanted. He glanced down at Ib, who was staring at him. She obviously didn't want him to do it, but she didn't want to die either. He couldn't bear to look at her.

"…Don't give me that look, Ib…" He glanced away, knowing perfectly well what he had to do. He had to make sure Ib got out. She had so much more of her life to live than he had of his. He looked back at Ib and attempted to smile. "Don't worry… I'll be fine. Just leave it to me." He turned to Mary, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "Understood. Please, give me Ib's rose in exchange for mine." Mary looked him dead in the eye.

"Really? You sure?" Garry wanted to hope that he would somehow live through this, that he and Ib would both make it out somehow. But he knew that was impossible. He looked her in the eye right back. "Yes." The exchange was over in the blink of an eye. Garry stared at Ib's rose. He couldn't make himself look at Mary. She started to laugh and then ran away. He closed his eyes. He had to be strong. For Ib. He turned and knelt down in front of her, and gave her rose back to her. "Be careful with it…"

"I'm sorry…" Ib was looking at him, on the verge of tears. Garry looked at her in surprise. He tried to be cheerful. For her.

"Why are you apologizing? You didn't do anything wrong, Ib. Right? So don't look so down!" He felt the first pangs of pain. Mary had started already. He was running out of time. Be strong. Be strong. "And my rose… Well, we'll just catch Mary and get it back! Let's do our best! I know we're almost there!" He hoped Ib didn't see past the mask of cheerful confidence he had put on. He looked around, and realized everything had a blue tint to it. Not only that, the complacent dolls suddenly looked menacing; the mannequins, terrifying; and the mannequin heads were floating and prowling. And the pain was getting worse. "Wh-What…?! What's with these guys? Ib, be careful!" He and Ib ran, with him guiding her to the stairs that Mary had taken. As soon as they reached the steps, the artworks abandoned the chase. He and Ib slowed down, then he felt a new burst of pain on his side, accompanied by bone-chilling words of a children's game.

"Loves me…" Mary's words echoed in the hallway. He glanced down. Ib didn't seem to notice his flinch.

"Loves me not…" A groan escaped him, and Ib started walking faster. They weren't going to make it.

"Loves me…" Garry stumbled and fell on his knees. He couldn't even walk, nor could he pinpoint where the pain was even coming from. It was everywhere. Ib stopped walking and knelt beside him.

"Ib… um… Sorry, but… Could you go ahead?" She didn't move. "I'm… uh… I'm sorry… I don't really know what to say…" He couldn't tell her he was about to die, she was only nine. And yet… "I don't want to lie to you… But I… don't want to tell the truth either…" He could hardly hold himself upright. "If you need help… I'll come running…" He wouldn't look Ib in the face. "Go on… ahead…" After a pause, he saw that she got up, and he heard her footsteps echo in the hallway as she left him.

"Loves me not…" He dragged himself over to the wall, and leaned up against it. His breaths had become shallow and ragged.

"Loves me…" He felt something in his pocket, weighing on his chest. He shakily reached in it and pulled out the object. His lighter. He should've given it to Ib. She could've used it…

"Loves me not….!" He couldn't move anymore. He couldn't even feel pain anymore.

"LOVES me!"


	2. Forgotten Portrait - Ib

Ib stood up. This couldn't be happening. No, she had to get to Mary. Now. She turned and ran down the hallway.

"Loves me not…" She was running out of time. She started up the stairs. _He_ was running out of time!

"Loves me…" Almost to the top! Hurry! Hurry!

"Loves me not…!" Made it!

"LOVES me!" She rounded the corner at the top of the stairs just in time to see Mary pull the last rose petal. She froze and stared at the bare rose stalk. Mary didn't seem to notice her as she tossed the stalk on the floor. Ib just stood there, she didn't know how long, numb with shock. She suddenly realized Mary had said something and was heading out of the door. Ib ran to the mess of petals on the floor. No, she had to be dreaming. She must have passed out again. This was just another nightmare. She got up slowly, then turned back toward the stairs. She had to know. She slowly walked down to the hallway where she left Garry. She dreaded what she would see, but she had to know for sure. She didn't know why she was doing this. Maybe she still had some hope that Mary was wrong, that Garry was wrong, and that he would still be alive. She rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs, and looked down the hallway. He had moved! He was sitting up against the wall! She started to walk towards him, but her walk quickly became a run. Yet the closer she got, the more she noticed that was wrong. He wasn't moving at all. His hand was limp on the floor, and his head was down. She slowed down as she got closer, hoping that somehow he would look up, smile at her, that he would be perfectly fine. But he didn't move. She stopped next to him. He still didn't move. She reached down and shook his shoulder.

"Garry?" No response. She shook him again. "Garry, come on. Move! Tell me you're ok!" Still no response. A tear fell and landed on his coat. "Garry, please move! Please…!" She realized his coat shoulder was wet. She was crying. She backed away from the limp body. No, no he couldn't be dead. He was just… sleeping! He was just sleeping! And he'll catch up to her later, he said he would! Ib looked down and noticed he had something in his hand. She reached down and picked it up. His lighter. Had he meant to give it to her before he… before he fell asleep? Why would he want to do that? She suddenly put two and two together. Mary was a painting. And Ib now had a lighter. She started to put it in her pocket, then realized there wasn't any room. Her skirt had tiny pockets, and there was already something in it. Two somethings: the candy Garry had given her and the pink key. She pulled the candy out and put the lighter in, then stared at the candy for a moment. Lemon wasn't her favorite flavor, but… He had given it to her. She unwrapped it and popped it in her mouth, then turned away from Garry and headed towards the stairs, refusing to look back.

When she reached the pile of petals, she noticed yellow rose vines covering a set of stairs that wasn't there before. Was there something behind them that Mary wanted to hide…? She walked closer. They had thorns, so she couldn't pull them down. She thought for a moment, then reached in her pocket and pulled out the lighter. This should work. She lit it and held it up to the vines. They burned away quickly, leaving her a clear path. She followed the hallway up the stairs into a long room. The opposite end was littered with dolls, mannequin heads, sketchbooks, and crayons. And framed on the wall was an incomplete painting with broken glass from the frame on the floor in front of it. Was that the painting that Mary had come from? Ib started to walk towards it when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned around to find Mary herself coming up the stairs.

"Who's there?" She stopped in her tracks when she saw Ib. "Ib! What are you doing?! Why… and how did you get into this room…?" Ib stared resolutely at her. "You can't… can't be here! Please, leave now…" Ib stayed put. Mary's expression hardened. "Now…!" Ib refused to move, giving Mary a defiant stare. "Now! NOW! NOOOW!" Suddenly the ground shook, and red cracks shot across the floor, coming from Mary. Ib stepped back, startled. Mary pulled out her pallet knife. "LEEEEEeeeEEEeeAVE!" Mary ran towards her, knife ready. Ib ran away from her, towards the painting. Now she had no choice. She had to burn it. She pulled the lighter back out and prayed that she was right about the painting. She reached it and held up the lighter. She glanced back to see that Mary had stopped and was staring at her. "Ib..! Please! STOP!" She flicked the lighter on. Mary screamed. Ib shut her eyes and clasped her hands over her ears, dropping the lighter, which flickered out.

When Ib opened her eyes, Mary was gone. Where she had been standing was just a pile of ashes with the palette knife on the floor next to it. She looked at the spot in the wall where the painting had been, and found only a burnt mark on the wall. She picked up the lighter again and put it back in her pocket, then walked back down the stairs and out through the door. She was back on the pink crayon-colored paths. Her feet seemed to lead themselves down the path to the house in the middle, and her hand moved on its own to pull out the key and unlock the door. She stepped inside to find a dark room with a staircase in the middle. As she walked down, it became darker and darker until she could hardly see a thing. She made it down the seemingly endless stairs and turned the corner at the bottom. By this time, her eyes had adjusted and she could just barely make out where she was. She was in the lobby of the art gallery. Her heart beat quickened, and she darted up the stairs, heading to the mural. When she reached it, she realized it had changed. It now showed the gallery that she had come from, and the nameplate description had now changed as well. It now said "Once you go in, there's no going back. All your time here will be lost. Will you still jump in?" She looked up at the painting to see a flash of light come from it, then the frame disappeared. She wanted more than anything to get out of here, but she didn't want to leave Garry. And yet she knew that if she never left him, she would never leave. She closed her eyes, and stepped back to take a running jump into the painting. She was about to go when she heard a familiar voice.

"Ib…" She stopped and turned to where the voice had come from, and gasped. Garry was there! Garry was standing there, alive and well! "Ib!" It seemed too good to be true, but she couldn't stop a smile from spreading across her face. He stepped closer. "I was looking for you…! You went off on your own! I said I'd catch up, didn't I? Sheesh… I was worried." Ib didn't say anything. Something seemed… off about him, but she couldn't pinpoint what it was. "Anyway, Ib! I think I found an exit!" Her smile was slowly fading. He stepped closer again. "It's not here, it's over there. Wanna go check it out?" She looked at the painting. This was obviously the exit… But she had trusted Garry. And yet her instincts insisted that she shouldn't trust him. She swallowed nervously and shook her head. Garry looked taken aback. "And why not? We might be able to get out!"

"I think this painting can take me out." She was certain of that. Garry's expression hardened.

"How would you know for sure?" He almost looked menacing now. "Come on, let's go! Come with me!" Ib flinched at his harsh tone. This wasn't like him. This couldn't be him. Garry was … asleep. She remembered reading about hallucinating. If that was true and this wasn't Garry, then… There was nobody there. He would never come back to her. A single tear slid down her cheek as she turned from him towards the painting. "Ib…!" She started running towards the painting, and felt fingertips brush her shoulder, just barely missing her. She jumped through to find nothing but a blindingly bright light, and she fell. She closed her eyes tight and waited for the impact.

Ib blinked her eyes open and looked around. She was standing in front of a huge mural on the second floor of the art gallery. For some reason, she couldn't remember what she had just been doing. She started walking through the halls, wandering around, until one painting caught her eye. She walked closer to get a better look at it. The name plate labeled it as "Forgotten Portrait". It showed a man with purple hair and a blue coat asleep, leaning up against a wall. Ib couldn't help but feel like she had seen him before, but this was the first time she had seen any of… what was his name again? G… G… Gretina? No. Gertena? Something like that. It was the first time she had seen any of his art; it was impossible that this man in the painting would be familiar to her.

"Ib!" She turned around to find her mother behind her. "There you are! Sheesh… I was looking for you! We should look around together! We all came, after all…" Ib smiled sheepishly, then realized how dry her throat was.

"I'm thirsty, Mommy."

"Ah, right! When we're done here, I'll have your father get you something to drink!" Her mother smiled. "Yes, let's do that!" Her mom started to head towards the stairs, and Ib followed. She suddenly stopped and looked back at the portrait. Somehow, she felt drawn towards it. She was about to go back to it when her mother called out for her again. "Ib! Hurry up!" Ib knew better than to disobey her mother; she briskly turned around and followed her mother down the stairs.


	3. Ib All Alone

Ib walked quickly up the stairs, checking behind her to make sure "Mistake" wasn't following her. It didn't seem to be. She breathed a sigh of relief, then looked ahead to see another sculpture. She looked its plaque. "Final Stage". The rope blocking it off spanned the length of the whole room, but there was a passageway on the other side. She had to go through the roped area. She looked for an entrance, and found one blocked by a table with a vase on it. She had only two petals left, so she stuck her rose in the vase to restore it, then pulled it out and pushed the table aside so she could get through. She stopped as she got closer to the sculpture. It looked like a bed. Ib let out a yawn. She didn't even realize how tired she was. Just a short nap wouldn't hurt… She laid down and was surprised at how comfortable it was. Her eyes closed.

"Ib…" Was someone calling her name? The voice sounded vaguely familiar…

"Happy birthday, Ib!" It was her mother. "Hee… I'll treat you today! Here's a cake with your favorite strawberries! Special just for today!"

"Congrats, Ib!" Her father was here, too. "Nine already… You've grown! You used to be such a small girl…" She remembered now. This was her most recent birthday…

Her mother spoke up again. "There's still a lot more to go, huh, Ib?"

Her father smiled. "Yeah, I look forward to it!" She remembered that she was holding a present from her father. "Hm? Hey, you… Ahaha, you found it… Well, this is a little early… But hey! A birthday present from your father! Go on, open it!" There was a crinkling of wrapping paper. It had been a giant stuffed rabbit. She loved it instantly. "Well, Ib? There aren't many bunnies that big out there!"

"Now, honey…" Her mother sounded slightly irritated. "Didn't I tell you she was too old for stuffed animals?"

"Huh? Did you?"

"I did! Ib's room is already full of bunnies as it is! It hardly needs more!"

"W-well, but…" Ib hugged it. "L-look! Ib loves it!"

"Ugh… Fine…" Her mother sounded defeated, but she brightened up quickly. "Anyway, Ib, here's my own present!"

Ib was becoming less and less aware of her surroundings.

"A handkerchief with your name on it! I had them make it at the store."

"A lace handkerchief…" Her father sounded slightly surprised. "Isn't that a little… soon for Ib?"

"She's fine! She's very careful with things. We won't need to buy her new ones very often! So of course I want her to have good things early on."

"I suppose…"

She was completely alone in darkness, nothing but voices around her.

"…Oh, Ib, are you sleepy?" Her mother's voice sounded calming.

"You were really having fun… You must be tired, right?"

Their voices were slowing down, or maybe it was just her imagination… "Heehee, maybe so… How about you rest, Ib? We can keep partying when you wake up, okay?"

"Yes, that would be nice. Sleep well, Ib…" She couldn't open her eyes.

"Good night…"

In a certain art gallery in a certain city, there supposedly is a mural. There are many rumors surrounding this mural. Some say it was their favorite piece in the gallery, others claim to have no memory of it. Of those who claimed to see it, only a few noticed a difference. The mural had changed. Or maybe it hadn't. Maybe, the whole time, it did have a little girl on a black bed, painted in the corner, with red rose petals all around her, and a bare rose stalk falling from her hand. Of all of these people, only two seemed to be really affected by it. It is said that whenever they saw it, they burst into tears. Many think that it is simply the beauty of the piece. And yet others, though they are few and often disregarded, speculate that it was caused by the mural's possible change, that maybe the painted girl looks like one the couple had lost. But these theories are brushed off by most, listened to by few, and believed by even fewer. Yet no matter who told it, there was always one detail that never changed. When the couple would see the mural, there would be one word they uttered, the same every time.

"Ib…"


	4. Ib All Alone - Garry

Garry hopped into the mural, then turned back around to face Ib. "Yes! I'm really in! Hurry up, Ib!" Ib walked up to it and readied herself, but stopped when she heard a familiar voice.

"Ib…" She backed away from the painting and looked in the direction the voice had come from. Her mother appeared, almost materializing from the darkness in the gallery. Garry, however, didn't see her. There was nobody there to see.

"Ib? What's wrong? Come on!" Ib looked back at Garry, who smiled reassuringly at her, then waved at her to come to him. She looked back at her mother.

"Ib! I finally found you! Sheesh… I was looking everywhere! Don't just go running off places on your own! Your father's waiting for you too, see? Let's go, Ib!" Garry's smile faded.

"Ib! Hey, what are you doing?! Hurry up and come over!"

"Ib! How many times have I told you? Don't go following strangers!" Garry stood in front of Ib.

"Hey, it's not scary, okay? You'll be fine!"

"Ib! Listen to your mother! Don't go with some stranger! Do you never want to see your mother and father again?" Garry crouched down.

"Ib! I'll pull you over!" Ib looked back and forth between the two, who both spoke at once.

"Come with me…" "Grab my hand…"

"Ib!" She made the mistake of looking at her mother, who had a sad expression on her face, as if she knew she would choose Garry over her, and Ib couldn't stand it. She suddenly realized her mother had a point. Why should she choose someone she had just met over her parents, who loved her and raised her? She started to walk towards her mother.

"…Huh? Wait…" Garry stood up. "Where are you going?! Ib!" Garry tried to get to her, but realized the painting was one-way. He couldn't get back to her. He pounded frantically on the invisible surface that was separating him and Ib. "Hey! IB!" She continued walking nowhere with no one, as if in a trance. "IB!" But she was already gone. "…come back…" He put his face in his hands, tears forming in his eyes. "I promised… we'd make it back together…" He started punching the wall. "Let… me… THROUGH!" But it was no use. He stepped back, defeated, but there was nothing to step on to, and he screamed when he started to fall into a blindingly white abyss, and he shut his eyes.

Garry blinked his eyes open and looked around. He was standing on the upper floor of the art gallery. For some reason, he couldn't remember what he had just been doing. He glanced down at his wristwatch and realized he needed to leave. He reached in his pocket for a cigarette, then remembered he didn't have any with him, so he reached in his other pocket for the alternative: a lemon candy. Somehow, he must have lost it, because it wasn't there. He sighed, slightly off-put, and started to leave the gallery. As he walked by the reception desk, he overheard a worried couple trying to find their daughter. He found himself stopping and listening to them, though he didn't know why. The child was described as a nine year old with long brown hair and red eyes, wearing a red and white school uniform. He suddenly noticed the tears running down his face, and quickly wiped them off with his sleeve. _I should have been more responsible._ He blinked, realizing what he had just thought, then corrected himself. _No, she's their child. _They_ should have been more responsible._ He walked out of the doors. _My, losing a child in an art gallery. The girl must be terrified._ He shook his head as he strolled down the street, heading home. _Poor thing._


	5. Together, But Not Forever

"Am I out? Did I make it… outside?" Mary looked around. She certainly seemed to be outside. She turned from the giant mural and started to walk around, growing happier with every step. There were people- actual people!- everywhere. She began looking for Ib's parents- no wait, now they were her parents too. She walked downstairs and saw them in front of the registration desk, and promptly ran over to greet them. As she got closer, Ib's mother- her mother- noticed her. She turned and a smile grew on her face.

"Hello, Mary. Are you enjoying the gallery so far?" Mary nodded, not quite sure what to say. She had always imagined this moment, having parents and being able to talk to them and interact with them and love them, and have them love her back. Her stomach grumbled and she looked down in surprise. She had never been hungry before.

"Mommy, I'm hungry."

"My, talking of dinner already, Mary?" Her mother's eyes seemed to smile when she talked, and Mary thought they were beautiful. Her mother was beautiful, her father was handsome, and her sister wouldn't remember a thing about the gallery. About Garry. This was going to be perfect.

"Well, it's cause I'm hungry!" Her mother smiled.

"Well, we can wait for Ib here. If you're hungry already, I'm sure she won't be far behind."

"Oh, I saw her just a few minutes ago! She should be here in no time."

Fifteen minutes later, she volunteered to go look for Ib, a request that her father granted. She made her way back upstairs, keeping an eye out for Ib, until she reached the mural. She looked at it, expecting Ib to come through at any second. Suddenly she spotted something that made her heart drop to her stomach. _That can't be… No. No, she can't be…!_ The mural had changed. In a small corner, there was now a brown-haired girl sleeping on a black bed. Red flower petals were painted around her, with a bare rose stalk lying on the floor next to her. _No…!_ She backed away from the mural, then turned and began frantically running throughout the gallery, searching for Ib, praying that it wasn't her. When she was stopped by a security guard for running, tears were already streaming from her eyes. The guard's expression changed from stern to concerned.

"What's wrong? Have you lost your parents?" Mary shook her head.

"My… my sister… she's…" Mary burst into fresh tears, unable to tell him what had happened. He wouldn't believe her. The guard looked around, nervous about all the attention she was attracting, then turned his attention back to Mary.

"Can you tell me where your parents are?" Mary nodded and pointed in the direction of the reception desk. "Alright, how about I take you to your parents, then." She went with him without complaint, now completely quiet, silent tears falling down her face. When they reached her parents, they looked shocked at Mary's expression and immediately rushed to them, fussing over her.

"Mary, what happened? Are you okay?" The guard cleared his throat.

"She said something about her sister…" Their eyes widened, and they looked down at Mary. Her father crouched down to Mary's level.

"Mary, I need you to tell me. Did something happen to Ib?" Mary sniffed and cleared her throat. She couldn't tell them the truth. They could never know.

"I… I can't find her is all." She looked down at the floor, trying to will the tears back. Her father stood back up, looking relieved.

"Well, I'm sure she's here somewhere. If we all look, I'm sure we'll find her. Here, how about we split up and meet here in half an hour? Surely somebody will have found her by then." All Mary could do was nod. As her parents started to walk away, she simply stayed. There was no point in searching. They would never find her. They would never know where she had gone. Tears threatened to well up in her eyes again and she fought them back. This was wrong. This shouldn't have happened. She was supposed to be here with her new parents and Ib and they were all supposed to go home and have fun and play games and eat and talk and grow up together. They were supposed to be together forever. Now it would never happen. And Mary couldn't help but feel that it was somehow her fault.


	6. Ib All Alone - Garry 2

Garry strolled over to the small box. "I wonder what's in here…" He opened it up to find a black key. "Another key? How much more is there to this place…?" He turned to see that Ib was no longer right behind him. He turned toward the sculpture in the middle of the room to see that she was laying on the bed. "Ib, maybe you shouldn't…" He got closer and realized she was already asleep. That was fast. He might as well let her sleep; she hadn't rested at all the whole time they were in the gallery. He moved the blanket to tuck her in, and froze when a red rose petal fluttered to the ground. He slowly and carefully pulled the blanket off to find another rose petal lying next to Ib. He reached down and picked up her rose gently. Maybe he had to keep it out from under the blanket, where it could be knocked around if she moved. He readjusted the blanket, then moved towards the wall. Another petal fell. Garry stopped. Was something happening to Ib in her sleep? He quickly walked back to her and shook her. "Ib! Wake up!" She kept sleeping. "Ib! Come on! We need to go, now!" Another petal fell. "Ib!" She still didn't move. He had to get her rose to a vase, fast. He thought he remembered there being one in the previous room, and he ran, carrying the rose as gently as he could. Another petal fell. He rushed down the stairs, almost falling in his hurry. There was the vase! He ran over to it and stuck the rose in, and nothing happened. The last petal had already fallen.

In a numb shock, Garry just stood there, hand still on the rose stalk, until he was knocked to the ground by the Mistake painting, who continued running past him. It didn't seem real. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't be gone… But her rose petals had all fallen off. He slowly pushed himself upright, and gently picked up Ib's rose stalk and tucked it in his pocket. He trudged back up the stairs to the room he came from, and when he got to the piece of art, he couldn't make himself simply walk past it. He glanced down and saw Ib lying there peacefully, no sign of pain on her face. He checked her pulse to be sure. Nothing. She was asleep, and she was never going to wake up. "I'm so sorry, Ib… I broke my promise…" He shakily sighed, tears threatening to appear, then turned and walked toward the passageway.

* * *

Garry blinked his eyes open and looked around. He was standing on the upper floor of the art gallery. For some reason, he couldn't remember what he had just been doing. Feeling slightly disoriented, he wandered around the gallery until one painting in particular caught his eye. He got closer to it and read the plaque. "In the Shadows of Memory." Interesting title. But when he saw the picture, his breath stopped short. It was a portrait of a young brown-haired girl sleeping on a black diamond-shaped bed, with red rose petals painted around her. It was beautifully done, but that wasn't what stopped him. The girl looked familiar. Had he seen the painting before? He didn't think so, and yet... He glanced down at his wristwatch and realized he needed to leave. He almost reached in his pocket for a cigarette, then remembered he didn't have any with him, so he reached in his other pocket for the alternative: a lemon candy. However, he didn't find a lemon candy. Instead, he found the stalk of a rose. What was that doing in his pocket? He had a thought, and glanced up at the painting to see that his thought was correct; there was no rose stalk in it. A weird coincidence. But something was tickling the back of his mind, something that was telling him that it wasn't a coincidence. There was a reason he had the rose stalk and the portrait didn't…

Suddenly a scene briefly flashed in his head, like a vision. He was running, holding on to the rose, looking… for something. What did that even mean? When did that happen? Recently? He started to pace, trying to remember, but he tripped over seemingly nothing and fell, and as he fell, he remembered being pushed to the ground by… someone. He couldn't remember who. He pushed himself up and glanced around, embarrassed, but there were few people in the gallery now. Nobody had noticed his trip. He scratched his head, and suddenly words popped up in his mind, with other flashes of memory. He was standing in a strange world, talking to the painted girl. "Say, Ib, have you heard of macarons?" Now he was being pushed… into a toy box? "They're these candies shaped like hamburgers." He was with the girl in front of a broken painting, holding a lighter and confronting another girl, one with blond hair. "And just the other day, I had one at a café, and it was sooo tasty!" The painting was gone, and so was the blond girl. In her place was a pile of ashes and a palette knife. "It was really, really good! Even the cream wasn't too sweet! So, uh, if we get out of here…" Here? Where was here? Was 'here' the place where he used a handkerchief to bandage his hand? "…could we go there together?" The girl was asleep on a bed. A black diamond-shaped bed. He was shaking her, but she wasn't responding. "No, wait." He was running, holding the rose. "We will be going there!" The bare rose stalk was sitting in a vase full of water, and he was pushed over and fell. "And we will be getting out!"

Garry reached in his other pocket to find a white lace handkerchief with blood on it. In the corner was embroidered the name Ib. Tears were flowing freely down his face as he whispered, "…I promise…" He looked up at the portrait. "I promised you we'd get out together… And I broke it." Guilt took free reign of his emotions. "I'm so sorry! This is my fault…!" He suddenly realized people were staring at him, and he ran, his feet seemingly leading themselves, back to where the mural was. But it wasn't there. There was no empty wall where it had been either; the whole area it had been in wasn't there anymore. As if it had never even existed. He was startled by an announcement over the gallery's P.A. system.

"We are sorry to inform our guests that it is now closing time. We kindly ask that you vacate the premises, and we thank you for coming to visit the Guertena exhibit today."

He had to leave now. He didn't even have a choice. He stood still for a moment, trying to clear his face of tears and get his emotions in check, at least temporarily. When his face was dry, he slowly walked down the stairs and out of the doors, hearing a cheerful "Thank you for coming! We hope to see you again!" coming from the reception desk as he left. He reached the sidewalk, and began the long walk home as a solitary tear slid down his cheek.


	7. Promise of Reunion

Garry blinked his eyes open and looked around. He was standing on the upper floor of the art gallery. For some reason, he couldn't remember what he had just been doing. He walked down the hallway, glancing at various pieces of art, when one in particular caught his eye. He stopped where he was and stared at the giant rose sculpture. The sculpture made him feel sad, but he didn't know why. He stepped closer and started to study it, trying to figure out what it was that brought out the emotion in him, when he felt a little tug on his coat. He turned around to find a little girl who looked about eight or nine staring up at him.

"What are you looking at?" He guessed she wanted him to explain it, but he didn't really know how.

"Hm? Well, let's see… It's a rose sculpture, I guess…" He faced the work again. "…When I look at this sculpture… I feel somehow sorrowful… I wonder why?" He suddenly realized who he was talking to. Why was he telling this to a stranger? Especially a little kid like her. He turned to apologize. "Ah, I'm sorry if I said anything to trouble you, Ib…" He blinked. "Wait, what?" Ib? Where did that come from? He didn't know anybody named Ib. "Who's Ib?"

"I am." The girl was staring up at him. Garry was surprised.

"What? That's your name? Your name's really Ib?" She nodded. Garry was perplexed. "That's the strangest thing… I mean, I don't know you at all… It just kind of came out… How odd." And yet, the more he looked at her, the more familiar she seemed. "But… actually… Have we, perhaps, met somewhere before…?" She had a confused look on her face. This was awkward. Garry found himself looking anywhere but at her. "…My, look at me, asking you such strange things…"

He glanced at his watch. He had to leave. Good. This situation was getting more awkward by the second. He looked back at the girl named Ib. "Never mind what I said. …Well, bye." He turned abruptly and began walking away. He reached in his pocket for a cigarette, then remembered he didn't have any, so he reached in his other pocket for the alternative: a lemon candy. But he didn't find a candy in his pocket. There was… a scrap of fabric? "Hm?" He stopped walking and pulled it out of his pocket. "What's this…" White lace. "…a handkerchief? When did I get this…" The day was getting weirder and weirder. He felt a tug on his coat again. He turned around to find the same girl behind him. "Ah… Is this yours?" She nodded. Something on it caught his eye and he looked closer at it. "…My word, it's true… 'Ib'… Your name's right on it. But why is it in my pocket?" Then he noticed something that gave him chills. "Plus, there's blood on it…"

Suddenly a scene flashed in his head briefly, like a vision. He remembered… something. A small something. "I was… I was… wounded… On the hand… and…" It was slowly coming back to him. "A girl… A girl gave me her handkerchief…" All of the pieces were coming together now. "Yes… this handkerchief was given to me as a gift… A gift… from Ib!" He looked down at the brown-haired girl, a smile on his face. "Ib! I remember now… We were together back there…" He frowned slightly. "How could I have forgotten? It was so important! We stuck together through that bizarre gallery…" He remembered everything! "Chased by strange statues… And Mary too, right?" He looked down at Ib, realizing that she might not know what he was talking about. "Ib… Do you remember?" She shook her head. He had to remind her… What would shake her memory? "Ah! Remember when you got back my rose for me, Ib?! And the floor covered in eyes, and the room full of mannequins…" She still looked clueless. What else was there…? "And also…" The candy! The lemon candy! "When you fainted, Ib! I gave you some candy!"

She reached in her pocket, and her eyes widened. She pulled out the candy, still in its wrapper. She blinked a few times, staring at it, then broke into a huge smile. She remembered! "It's hard to believe even now… But it must have happened, right?" He smiled. "Ib… We got back safely! We did it!" He had kept his promise. He chuckled, but then remembered the time. "There's so much more I want to talk about, but I've got to get going…" He realized he was still holding the handkerchief. He started to give it to her, then saw the blood on it. "Ah, uh, Ib… Is it alright if I keep this handkerchief a while longer? It wouldn't do to return it as it is… I'll have to… make it clean, and then give it back." He stuck it back in his pocket. "Because… we will see each other again!" He turned to walk away, and looked back at Ib, who waved at him cheerfully. He waved back, then headed downstairs and out the gallery entrance, humming happily to himself as he headed home.


	8. Left Behind

"What's this big mural… 'Fabricated World'?" Garry suddenly realized what the painting was. "Hey, isn't that… The former gallery?" Was this the way out? "Does that mean… If we jump into this, we'll go back there?!" He touched it to see if his hand would go through and confusion flickered across his face when it wouldn't go through the glass frame. "But how are we meant to jump into a painting…?" Suddenly, a bright light flashed from the painting, causing Garry to close his eyes for a second. When the light was gone, he opened them to find that the frame had disappeared. "Ib, look! The frame…! Now might be our only chance…" He put his hand on it to see if he could go through, and a smile quickly spread across his face when it sunk into the painting. "This is really it…!" He looked down at his companion. "Let's get you home, Ib." He crouched down to her level. "C'mon, I'll help you in." Ib nodded and he gently picked her up and swung her over and into the painting. "Alright, now it's my turn." He froze when he heard a familiar giggle coming from the hallway. He snapped his attention to his left to find a blue doll; he was sure that it was the same one that had been following him around earlier. "Not you again… I don't have time for this!" He turned back and immediately shut his eyes as another bright flash illuminated the room. He opened his eyes to find that the frame was back. "Wh… What?! No!" He shot his hand forward, only to recoil it in pain when it slammed against the glass frame. The giggling came again, and it sounded closer. He tried to put his hand through again, making sure he was gentle this time, and his heart sank when it stopped on the frame. "…I really can't get through…"

"Garry?" His attention was brought to the brunette that was still inside the painting. "Garry, what's wrong? What happened? Why can't you come through?"

"The frame's back… It's blocking the way." He looked at the frame, trying to see if there were any holes in it, anything that might give him even a small chance of getting back. He almost jumped out of his skin when giggling came from right under his feet. He looked down to see that the doll was right in front of him, leaning up against the wall. There was a familiar splash of paint as words appeared on the wall next to it. _You took too long… _Garry took a step back, not wanting to have anything to do with the doll.

"Garry, what do I do?"

He looked back up at Ib, trapped in the painting. "Ib… Go on ahead. I'll find another way out."

Ib's eyes widened. "But-"

"Ib, trust me. I will. I promise." She glanced down uneasily. "I have to get out anyways. I still need to give your handkerchief back, remember? And I promised I'd take you to that café to eat some macarons." He thought he saw the beginnings of a grin on Ib's face. Her eyes met his. "And I don't break my promises. Trust me. Go on, I'll catch up." The grin was gone. Ib slowly nodded, and turned around and started to walk. He heard a scream as she suddenly fell, disappearing from sight, and he started forward, trying to get through the frame. "Ib!" It was quiet. He pounded on the frame. "IB!" Nothing. He tried to push away the thought that he might have sent her to her death and started frantically pacing around the painting, looking all around the frame, trying to figure out how he could get the frame off without damaging the painting itself. He had to get to Ib. He had to see if she was okay. Another splash interrupted his thoughts and he glanced down. _Look at the painting itself._ He was hesitant to do anything that the doll would suggest, yet he glanced up at it anyways to see that there was a change in the painting. There was now a small brunette child walking, holding hands with two slightly familiar figures. Her parents. He smiled as relief flooded his body. She was okay. But the relief faded away as he acknowledged the fact that he couldn't get out anymore. He heavily sighed, defeated. He was stuck here, in the gallery. There was another splash. _You're here forever now!_ Garry stared at the words on the wall, and felt anger slowly make its way into his body. No. No, he would not give this doll any satisfaction. He stood up straight, determined. He would find a way out. He promised her. And he never broke his promises. He continued walking, searching, ignoring the splashes behind him.

_You're one of us now!_

_Where are you going?_

_You won't find it._

_It's impossible._

_You're here forever now…_

* * *

There was a boy dashing through the hallways of the gallery, jumping at every sound. He had no idea where he was. He thought he was in an art gallery in the middle of the city, surrounded by people, but this was different. There was nobody here, and all of the paintings tried to attack you. Especially the lady paintings. He glanced behind him to see that a red one was still chasing him, then cried out when he tripped and he fell, dropping his orange treasure. He picked it up quickly and scrambled into a corner, failing to get on his feet. He turned around to find that she was practically right on top of him, and he curled into a ball and shut his eyes tight, waiting. But instead of feeling pain, he heard a voice.

"Geez, what did you find this time, Red?" He opened his eyes to see that she had turned her face from him and was looking down the hallway. "Oh my… Are you… Could you be… someone from the gallery?" He looked up to find a tall man with purple hair and a long blue coat crouching down in front of him. He nodded. "I'm sorry that Red scared you… But I'm glad to see that you're okay." He wasn't sure he could trust the man; he seemed to know the scary lady painting. But he gasped when the man produced another treasure just like his, except it was blue. The man smiled warmly. "My name is Garry. What's yours?"


End file.
